Night of the Dragon

that he tried to steal away my sons, Giramar and Galadin....'

'By the gods!' There were no monsters greater than those that preyed on children, so Rom thought, though he had no offspring himself. 'Your sons? But how could any dare take the children of Rhonin Draig'cyfaill—' Rom used the name by which many now called the legendary wizard. Draig'cyfaill—Dragonhead, '...and you?'

'Rhonin has been busy of late....' She said this without any rancor, only as fact. 'There is much to be done to repair things in Dalaran.' This she did not explain further, even the dwarves aware of the extensive destruction there. 'And as for me...this blood elf knew in particular how to disguise himself against me.'

'Another ranger...or used to be one, eh? Just as I thought.'

Vereesa did not listen, her gaze inward. In the light of the torches the dwarves used, her eyes were a bright, bright blue. 'Rhonin set in place wards to guard us from those who might want vengeance or merely thought us a danger to their cause. Those wards faced little use for some time, and thus I grew too complacent.'

'Complacent?'

'Yes...complacent. I, a ranger, had come to enjoy my family and reveled in my children. When the wards shrieked their alarm, I almost acted too slowly. I burst in and sent him fleeing just before he could spirit the children away!'

'What—what would he want with children?' Grenda asked.

'What would any seeker of magic want with the children of a powerful wizard and a high elf? Children with so much potential in their bloodlines?' Rom asked her in return, his own questions both rhetorical and filled with dread.

Vereesa nodded. 'Yes, that was my thought also... and that is why I knew that eventually he would try again...and why we had to hunt him down, no matter what the cost.' She shook her head. 'With all that he has been doing, Rhonin has not slept any more than I. Neither of us will rest until this is over. Our only regret was that we finally had to separate to follow different trails, though we keep in touch through this.'

She pulled from beneath her breastplate a triangular talisman with a blue gem at the center. The talisman was attached to a chain that let it hang from her neck.

'That looks familiar... somewhat.'

'Rhonin took the one you think of and altered it into this design.'

Rom grunted. 'How long since you last used it to reach the wizard?'

'A day ago.'

'Well, it won't work here for the same reason we don't have the blood elf breathin' down our necks.'

Vereesa frowned, then replaced the talisman beneath her breastplate. 'A small trouble and perhaps the best thing. I now know that he is here. Zendarin will pay.'

Rom again heard the loathing in her voice. ''Zendarin'? You know him very well, it sounds.'

Her smile was as grim as her tone. 'Better than any save my sisters, for his family, too, was named Windrunner, as his father and mine were brothers.' Her hand caressed the hilt of her sword. 'And though we are of the same blood... I will put an end to my cousin's abominable thirst for magic, even if it means my own sacrifice.'

'Is something amiss, my dear Zendarin?' the dark lady asked with a slight touch of humor.

'You might be interested in these.' With the staff, he pointed at a spot near to where she was studying another egg.

The overly-burdened skardyn gratefully dropped the two dragonspawn carcasses that the blood elf had ordered them to bring all the way from where they had been discovered. As soon as that was done, the scaly creatures quickly retreated from the scene.

'I have seen dead dragonspawn before. You might recall that we have an infestation of dwarves with which you have yet to properly deal.'

He ignored her remark. With the glowing end of the staff, he prodded one of the corpses. 'This was slain by a dwarf... with the help of several other dwarves, judging by the many scars and smaller wounds.' Zendarin Windrunner then pointed at the other body. ' That was done by someone with a weapon of power... someone much taller than the Bronzebeard vermin.'

She turned her burnt side to him. 'And this is of significance to me for what reason?'

'You said that he was near, the one you wanted to come! Does this not mean that he's about?'

The ebony-clad woman laughed, a macabre sight. 'Is that the best you think he could do? My dear Zendarin, when he comes, it will be in a much more subtle yet still more powerful manner than this....'

'Than what—' He stopped as she strode past him to investigate the one body. One long, graceful hand ran along the area of the body, poising longest by the throat. She smiled as she openly admired the handiwork.

'A skilled warrior did this,' the lady in black commented. Her hand suddenly glowed red. It ran once more over the throat. 'They located the most sensitive spot with ease.'

'What are you doing?'

'Finding a bit of the truth,' she replied, standing again. As the glow faded, Zendarin's companion held out her hand to him. 'And the truth is closer to home than you might think...'

Zendarin did not like riddles save when he was the one telling them. 'If you know something, spit it out!'

She gave him a look that immediately cowed the blood elf. 'Remember who it is you are speaking to and then consider your tone carefully! There is much insubordination from you that I will tolerate, but there are limits to even my fine patience....'

Zendarin wisely kept silent. He bowed his head in respect.

'That is better.' She gestured at the cadavers.

A ball of flame erupted from her palm. It split in two as it flew toward the bodies.

The two smaller balls struck. The corpses became tiny infernos, burning to ash in mere seconds.

The lady in black inhaled deeply through her nostrils, her expression filled with dark pleasure. 'Ah, what a fine fragrance, don't you agree?'

'You had some answer for me?' the blood elf reminded her.

With her other hand, she dismissed the ashes, which went flying out of the chamber, eventually to descend into the unused lower depths of Grim Batol. In their wake, only one small item remained... an arrowhead.

'Pick it up.' When he had obeyed, she asked, 'Does it look familiar?'

The blood elf sneered. 'This is high elven!'

'Yes, but not just. I recognize it. You should, too.'

“I do...' He turned it over, studying the make. It did not look like any stone, but rather white pearl. In truth, it was even much more and would have bore into its target with greater efficiency than any mortal arrow. 'This is Thalassian work. These are the mark of a favored of the ranger-general of Silvermoon! No blood elf helped slay the guards, then...a surviving ranger was here...'

'I find the distinctions between passing phases of elf irrelevant.' The disfigured woman eyed him closely. 'I do believe that you know exactly who might be responsible. Now that is interesting.'

'It's nothing....' he grated, tossing aside the arrowhead as if it burned his hand. 'And it will remain nothing.... I will see to that....'

'You had better. There can be nothing—absolutely nothing— that would interfere.' She locked gazes with the blood elf. 'You are not worth that much to my desires.'

With that, she turned from him to study the egg anew. Zendarin was furious at being dismissed like some skardyn, but he held all his anger within a mask of indifference. Besides, there was another upon whom to vent his fury. Typically impetuous—as proven by her tryst with the wizard and the potentially-powerful mongrels they had created—she had come to him rather than wait until he had time to return for her prodigy.

So much the better, my cousin, Zendarin thought as he strode from the lady's lair. Perhaps you have given me a different path to the magic I crave, one with less danger, more personal potential... and no one to bow to...

Then, a roar echoed throughout the caverns. The 'child' was hungry again. The lady had—without warning or reasonable discussion—held back with the feedings, suddenly interested in studying other aspects of its growth.